I have decided that I am not telling Mr. Renaissance about my decision to go into counseling–at least not yet. To clarify, I don't plan to volunteer this information in a vacuum. If an organic moment presents itself, I'm not saying I would sidestep it. I feel the need to wait right now, though. Maybe if he is still going to paint me, I will tell him after our sessions are underway. Or, if I happen to talk to him just after a doctor's appointment, and he asks me what's going on, or where I have just been, I will tell him then.

My reasons are three-fold:

1. I don't want to use the fact that I am going to be pursuing help navigating my personal issues as any kind of currency. Sometimes I use the things in my life–even my decisions–as a kind of prop to prove how evolved and mature I am. He would not necessarily attribute these to me for sitting on "the couch", but I might be tempted to hope for that response. No good.

2. There is so little about me that is not available to him–because in truth–I am not really inclined to keep precious morsels back. It's a practice of restraint. There has to be something for him to discover, even if it's just that I am seeing a therapist.

3. I don't want him to relate to me out of this decision. I don't want to become his friend "who's in therapy." I want to find my footing in this new process without it defining me for better (see number 1) or worse. After I've gone through it for a while, a month or so, then maybe the revelation will be more significant. If there is a revelation.